


Severance and Injurious Affection

by forthedefenseyourhonor



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Forgiveness, Gen, Reconciliation, but nothing too grisly, some minor descriptions of some major injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 18:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthedefenseyourhonor/pseuds/forthedefenseyourhonor
Summary: It's been nearly five years since the demise of Nelson & Murdock. Foggy has just made partner and runs his own successful department, ironically dealing with the law as it pertains to superheroes and vigilantes. He's working late over the holidays when an unexpected phone call from the hospital regarding Mr Murdock turns things upside down.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katbelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katbelle/gifts).



Patchy clouds skittered across the sky and the wind bit at any exposed slivers of skin as Foggy wended his way through the throngs of shoppers; all out to get a bargain or sneakily exchange unwanted Christmas gifts. He wriggled his fingers under the slightly lumpy hand-knitted hat he had unwrapped on Christmas morning and pulled it a little further down over his ears. Really, the hat was slightly too small but it was the first item Mary had ever knitted to completion so it brought a smile to his face, even if it did leave his ear lobes vulnerable to frostbite. Foggy had left her and the kids at home to return to work despite it only being December 27th as Hogarth had been keeping everyone's nose to the grindstone over the holidays. Thick walls of terrigen mist had rolled in across the tri-state area in mid-December and the sudden explosion in Inhuman activity had meant a boom in client numbers in the Crime Fighter, Mutant, and Inhuman (or CFMI, for short) department at Hogarth, Chao, Benowitz, and Nelson. Foggy had headed up the department since its inception nearly 5 years ago but as a newly-minted partner he couldn't afford to slack off, even if it was Christmas.

Eventually, he escaped the crowds and made it into the revolving door that led to the HCB&N offices. The dry, warm air of the building hit his face and he immediately began sweating. Foggy gave a cheerful smile to the security guard manning reception, who nodded solemnly in return and continued picking baubles off the now sad-looking Christmas tree behind his desk. Foggy hummed to himself and hopped into the elevator, jamming his finger on the button for the 30th floor. The doors slid open and he made his way to his office via the freshly brewed coffee he caught a whiff of in the corridor.

"Morning, Sherilyn!" he chirped on his way past her desk, "Good Christmas?"

"Oh, yes, thanks! New hat?"

"Yup, freshly knitted by my darling wife," Foggy beamed.

Sherilyn returned the smile and dived briefly under her desk, popping back up a moment later with a pair of bobbly mittens clutched in her hands.

"Cara opted for crochet instead of knitting," she held them up side by side by the cuffs, "she's got heart but consistency is not her strong point."

Foggy chuckled. The left mitten was somehow around 30% bigger all round than the right one. He moved into the office and deposited his briefcase on the floor. Sipping the hot coffee, Foggy fired up his work computer and settled in for a slow day of building defences for New York's newest crime fighters. As the day wore on, the sky became slowly more grey and just after lunch snow began to fall once again. Foggy told Sherilyn to take the rest of the afternoon off once it became clear that the snow wasn't going to stop. It was bad enough she'd had to come in because he was there (an unfortunate company policy rather than Foggy's personal choice) let alone that she should be trapped in the city by fresh snowfall during the holidays. She waved him goodbye, the end of her too-large left mitten flapping as she did, and headed for the elevators. Foggy sighed and watched the snow swirling past the plate glass on its way to the sidewalk below. He grabbed another cup of coffee, now decidedly worse-tasting for having sat on the hot plate all day, and dived back into the case files. When he next looked up from his monitor the sky was pitch black, although the window was still taking a beating from the snow and wind outside. He glanced at his watch and was shocked to see that it was nearly 7 pm. The surrounding offices were dark and the 30th floor seemed eerily quiet. Foggy saved the document he was working on, ignoring that he hadn't reached what you'd call a convenient stopping point and shut down the computer. The screen dimmed and then powered off leaving him staring blankly at his own muted reflection. Dark circles hung, ever-present, beneath his eyes. His hair, currently in desperate need of a trim, danced on the shoulders of his pink shirt. Foggy pressed his knuckles into his eyes and yawned before heaving himself to his feet. He wriggled the knitted hat onto his head and had one arm in his coat when the sound of his cellphone ringing came from within the briefcase by his desk. Abandoning the coat, he dived across the room and got a hand on the phone before it stopped ringing. Number withheld. He answered somewhat reluctantly. A private caller usually meant a client looking to be helped out of trouble on short notice. And to think, he'd almost made it out of the office without incident. He raised the phone to his ear.

"Foggy Nelson. How can I help?"

"Hello, I'm looking for a Franklin Percy Nelson. Is he available?"

"Oh, that's me. Only my mother calls me Franklin," Foggy chuckled sheepishly, "Can I ask who's calling?"

"Mr Nelson, I'm calling from Metro General Hospital. You-"

"Oh my god, are Mary and the kids ok?!"

"Uh, sorry. No, I'm actually calling about a Mr Murdock. You're his only listed emergency contact and we've got no next of kin listed."

Foggy swayed where he stood. His pulse thundered in his ears. Other than the occasional blurry cell phone shot on the news, he had seen nothing of Matt in four years.

At first, the pain of Matt’s absence had been sharp and frequent, catching him off guard in moments of quiet reflection or else ambushing him in the midst of important trains of thought, which he then lost. Time had worn on and the cutting edge of the loss of his best friend and partner had dulled; a gnawing ache, like hunger, that was easily ignored as long as he kept busy. He could not remember now how long it had been since he had even thought of Matt. Guilt, panic, anger, and shame swirled in Foggy's gut, rising like bile and making his head spin. He put a hand out to the desk to steady himself.

"Uh, hello? Mr Nelson?"

"Y-yes, I'm still here. What happened to Matt?"

Slowly, the voice on the other end of the line explained. Three gunshot wounds. At least four serious lacerations. A shattered collarbone. Suspected fractured eye socket. The list stretched on. Foggy's breaths came shallow and ragged. The voice on the end of the phone paused as they reached the end of their list.

"I'm so sorry to have to tell you all of this. I, uh, I really think you should come in. Mr Murdock is-" a small cough "-well, not good."

"Yes, of course. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Foggy heard himself say the words as if from several rooms away. He felt his arm lower, felt his thumb move to hang up the phone. He stood stock-still for a beat and then, leaving everything but the cell phone where it lay, ran from the office. Foggy felt as though he were a passenger in his own body. His legs led him through the lobby, out onto the street. He hailed a cab and sat in silence as he headed downtown. Lost in regrets and memories, the journey seemed to take no time at all and soon he was pressing a fistful of bills into the driver's hand and diving out of the taxi, ignoring the man's calls that he'd left his change.

He gave Matt's name at the front desk, followed by his own and was directed to the ICU four floors up. Same again at the desk outside the double doors to the ward. The nurse asked Foggy to sign in and gave him a sympathetic look. The air felt still and quiet up here, away from the chaos of the emergency room and day-patients. The soft hissing and beeping of machines, muffled by the doors, brought Foggy rushing back to himself in a wave of nausea.

He finished signing his name and was grateful when the nurse asked him to take a seat. He was suddenly aware of how his hands were shaking and how hard he was breathing. His thoughts were chasing one another round his head, moving too quickly for him to understand clearly. _Why had he never reconciled with Matt?_ He had buried all these feelings so deep for so long. Foggy had never even told Mary, his own _wife_ , about Matt. _Surely he had known this day would come?_ He defended people like Matt for a living; saw first-hand the injuries they dealt and sustained in their line of work. Matt was just a man, as fallible as the next.

"Mr Nelson?"

Foggy started as a hand appeared gently on his shoulder.

"Uh, yes. Yeah, that's me."

"I'll take you through now, if you're ready?"

Jaw clenched, Foggy nodded and allowed himself to be led through the double doors. The noise of the machines, quiet before, seemed deafening now. He desperately wanted to run away from this place but knew that wasn't an option now. The nurse stopped and she turned to face him, one hand on the handle to room 512.

"Were you told on the phone about the extent of Mr Murdock's injuries?"

Foggy nodded silently.

"He's been in and out of consciousness but he's on a very high dose of painkillers, so he may not recognise you even if he comes to. Are you ready to go in?"

Foggy opened his mouth to speak, feeling stupid just nodding along, but no sound came out. The nurse gave a sad smile and gently patted his arm before swinging the door inwards. Foggy stepped into the doorway and there he was: Matthew Murdock.

"His belongings are in the top drawer, just in case. Press the call button if you need anything."

The door clicked shut and the two of them were alone. Matt's right arm was entirely surrounded by a cage, metal pins holding parts of him together. A protective bandage stretched across the left side of his face, covering the eye but not the blackened and swollen flesh surrounding it. Wanting a distraction from the sight in front of him, Foggy slid open the top drawer in the chest the nurse had indicated when she left. He gave a shaky sigh of relief

as he was greeted by bloody but neatly folded tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie, instead of the polymer-coated crimson body armour he had been expecting. What had Matt been doing in civvies to end up like this? Or had he been smart enough to dump the costume before seeking help? _What did it matter_ , Foggy thought. Matt was here now; safe and asleep.

" _Mmmhhff_ -Foggy..."

Foggy span on the spot at the murmur. With a great effort, Matt turned his head towards Foggy. A sliver of bloodshot eye was visible beneath the swollen right lid. He might have been smiling.

"You...came...back..."

Tears swelled in Foggy's eyes before he could begin to control them. He moved closer to the bed. He had no idea how Matt's senses were functioning well enough to identify him, but he didn't care.

"Hey," he sniffled, "I'm here, buddy."

Matt wriggled his fingers slightly and Foggy held them gently. There was definitely a smile curling Matt's lips now but as he blinked a tear ran down his bruised and cut cheek.

"I...I messed up...Foggy..."

Foggy laughed, despite himself.

"I can see that for myself, Matt."

Matt's eye closed and he gave the smallest shake of his head. Another tear followed in the other's tracks.

"No...I -" he took a laboured breath "- pushed you...away...you didn't deserve that..."

"It's not all your fault, Matt."

Foggy felt four years’ worth of grief, anger, and regret threatening to overtake him. He took a shuddering breath, becoming aware of the tears now running down his face and into his collar.

"I could have found you, Matt. I should have. I was just...angry...I don't even really remember now..."

He trailed off. His work at HCB&N had opened Foggy's eyes to the world of superheroes and vigilantes. _Why had he harboured his fury at Matt for so long? Why had he fought so hard against forgiveness?_ The stream of silent tears gave way to shaking sobs.

"I missed you, Matt. I really fucking missed you."

Matt gave a stifled sniff and winced.

"I missed you too. I was too proud...too stupid."

Matt's eye closed again.

"Foggy...if I make it through this...if I wake up-"

"When, buddy, not if."

The corner of Matt's mouth twitched again. He took a deep breath and carried on.

"I want to make things right, Foggy. Can we do that?"

His fingers twitched against Foggy's and his eye flickered open again; he looked distressed.

"Please, Foggy?"

Foggy managed a weak smile.

"I promise."

Matt relaxed back into his pillows, blinked twice, and seemed to fall instantly back into a deep sleep. Foggy gave his fingers one last gentle squeeze before settling in one of the arm chairs at the side of the room. He became suddenly aware of his cell phone still clutched in his other hand. Wiping his face quickly, Foggy glanced back up at Matt. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. He unlocked his phone and punched in Mary's number. The road to reconciliation would be a long one and the first step was simple, if not easy: honesty.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry, this is a complete mess because I'm TERRIBLE at time management and basically left this to the last minute like a school kid not doing their homework on time. I wish I could have added more emotion to the ending but I hope it's sufficient.


End file.
